Consummation
by Soonerwxgirl
Summary: Mary's wedding day to Sebastian has arrived, but when an unexpected visit from the Vatican disrupts the whole process, Mary decides to forgo her duty and claim what she really wants.


Author's Note: I do not own Reign, but I wish I did sometimes =) I don't claim any historical accuracy either =) This is a quick one-shot I've been mulling over in my head for awhile. I hope you enjoy!

Storybook Love [Lyrics by Willy DeVille, from the Princess Bride Soundtrack]

Come my love, I'll tell you a tale / Of a boy and girl and their love story  
And how he loved her oh so much / And all the charms she did possess

Now this did happen Once upon a time / When things were not so complex  
And how he worshipped the ground she walked / And when he looked in her eyes he became obsessed

_My love is like a storybook story / But it's as real as the feelings I feel_  
_ My love is like a storybook story / But it's as real as the feelings I feel_  
_ It's as real as the feelings I feel_

* * *

_"I, Francis, take thee, Mary, to be my lawful wedded Wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth."  
_

The words echoed in Mary's memory. Tonight, she should be celebrating her marriage to Sebastian, the next King of France. And yet, she sat by the window, watching the clouds drift lazily over the moon. Francis snored behind her, passed out drunk in her bed. Of all the ways she had envisioned her wedding night as a child, this most definitely had not made her list.

She was suppose to marry Sebastian today, or that had been the plan less than two days ago. King Henry had sent word ahead to the castle that the Pope had granted his request to legitimize Sebastian, and to make preparations for the wedding to occur as soon as he arrived home. Henry had been back at the castle less than twelve hours when a Papal Emissary arrived, having followed Henry back to France almost immediately after he left the Vatican.

Queen Catherine's relation, Cosimo de Medici, the Duke of Tuscany, had laid siege to the Vatican, promising to sack Rome if the Pope did not renege on his decision to annul King Henry and Queen Catherine's marriage. It was an amazing political ploy, and Henry had no option but to accept defeat. Sebastian would not, and now could not, ever be King.

It also meant he and Mary would never marry. And if Henry was true to his original word, Mary must marry his son and lay claim on the English throne.

Children of royalty were always pawns in their parent's games. Mary's mother had arrived just a few days before King Henry, to help her daughter prepare for the wedding. She praised Mary on her unique political scheming, and yet scolded her on not marrying Francis in the first place.

Her conversation with her mother still haunted her thoughts.

"Does it matter if he dies or not? Mary, this is for Scotland and France. We have to put our countries first." Marie de Guise paced through Mary's chambers, having the first true opportunity to speak with her daughter upon arriving at the French court.

"I know that, Mother, I am not crazy. But does it matter, really, which Prince of France I marry as long as France backs Scotland?" Mary stood staring her mother down, hands on her hips and refusing to blink.

"If he is not legitimate, than yes. Even if Sebastian receives a papal dispensation, your lives will be riddled with attempts to overthrow your rule. If not from Francis, then Charles or Henry. It would be relentless." Marie de Guise pleaded with her daughter to see reason. Though when it came to matters of the heart, Marie knew reason rarely existed in the same time and space.

"Then we will live in Scotland, and rule by Regent in France." Marie shook her head in exasperation at her daughter.

"You sound like a love-sick child, Mary. Do you love the bastard so?"

"Kindly refrain from calling him such. He is a Prince of France, and my soon-to-be husband. He deserves your respect." Mary's voice took on the quality of a Queen, as she raised herself up straight and eyed her mother.

"You do love him?" Though it sounded like a question, Marie meant the comment as an observation. Mary had gown to love King Henry's eldest son, it was obvious. "Well, Mary, as a Queen, you can still love him and yet marry Francis."

Mary scoffed. It was hard to imagine her own mother suggesting such an infidelity. She moved around her chambers, picking up what accessories she would need for her wedding in a few hours.

"Oh come now, Mary, do not be surprised. You can marry Francis, and take Sebastian as your lover."

"Honestly, mother." Mary whispered. "Well, it does not matter. I am not marrying Francis." Her hands stilled on the pearl necklace she handled. The whole conversation with her mother gave her chills, and troubled Mary greatly. It was as if a dark cloud passed over the sun of Mary's heart. _There is nothing to worry about, silly, you are marrying Sebastian in less than three hours, _Mary thought. And yet she could not shake the terrible feeling, thanks to her mother, that the wedding would not take place.

"Mary?" Sebastian appeared in her doorway, dressed in his most regal attire. _He looks like a King, _she thought happily.

"Is it not bad luck to see me before our wedding?" Mary quipped, smiling at her soon-to-be husband. He smiled sadly in return.

"That is the problem, Mary. Something has happened. Father asked me to retrieve you and head to the throne room." The sinking feeling returned to Mary's heart, and she glanced anxiously at her mother.

"Well, let us away then." Marie de Guise motioned for Mary to follow her fiance. She easily caught up with Sebastian's larger stride, sneaking her hand in his and entwining their fingers.

"Is it bad news?" Mary questioned as they walked, but Sebastian only shrugged, squeezing her hand tightly.

Mary sighed as she continued to gaze at the moon. Everything had happened so fast that afternoon. The Papal Emissary, being told she would now marry Francis, and then watching the disappointment, and heartache blanket Sebastian's face. Not despair over losing the throne. His despair was over losing Mary, and she knew it. Part of her heart broke as well, having genuinely grown to love him. She loved him enough to now miss the chance to be his wife, his lover, and the mother of his children.

'_...take Sebastian as your lover_'

Mary inwardly laughed. She had dismissed her mother's words earlier, but now? _Oh, could I really entertain such a thought? _

_Yes._

The decision within her mind had been made. She calmly rose from her chair by the window, her heart racing. Francis still snored loudly, and he would not be awake anytime soon. Her feet moved slowly, her mind still debating whether she should go to him.

For once in her life, Mary was going to do what she wanted.

* * *

Mary pushed on the secret door to Sebastian's chambers, hoping he was both inside, and alone. He had been at the wedding, but she never saw him at the celebration feast afterwards. He most assuredly had not been at the consummation ceremony. Mary's heart ached for him. They had formed a close bond over the past several months, and she even felt secure in using the term 'love' when speaking about him. She had grown accustomed to his presence by her side, both physically, and in the mental sense of compassion, confidence, and complete and utter loyalty. He was her rock in a very shaky land.

And she needed her rock now. Now that every plan to save Francis had failed. Now that she had been forced to marry a man, though she loved him, who would die because of said marriage. It was bittersweet, really. Two men held her heart completely now. One was suffering greatly, and one would suffer.

Sebastian sat by his fire, head in his hands. Though she could not see his face immediately, Mary could guess the grief, despair, confusion, and betrayal would be excruciatingly vivid upon his features. With the sound of the secret door closing, he turned, and Mary could plainly see his dejection.

"What are you doing here? Is this not your wedding night?" His words were bitter, but horribly sober. They were not laced with anger towards Mary, for though she put them in this situation, she had not meant to end it this way.

"It was not the wedding night I had anticipated." Mary whispered, not wanting to approach Sebastian just yet. She had been in his arms, and kissed his lips, but that was a different time, and a much different place.

"Was he that bad?" The joke and laughter was tainted with despair, and Mary hated seeing such a brilliant man in pain.

"He is passed out drunk."

"What about the consummation? Was he at least sober for the most important part?" The way he clipped his words in disgust made Mary eager to end this part of their conversation as quick as possible.

"No, he was drunk, but he was at least awake." Mary paused, moving to sit on the edge of Sebastian's bed, fingering the elegant crimson brocade cover.

"They at least let me keep a few of a prince's finery. I am not a complete pauper." Mary noted the hints of anger were creeping into Sebastian's tone. "But none of what you said explains to me why you are here. Now." He stood, moving to sit across from Mary.

"I miss you." She whispered, her hand reaching across the space between them to find his fingers. He sighed, nodding in agreement.

They sat in silence for a moment, watching the fire dance wickedly amongst the logs. Mary had a real motive for seeking Sebastian out, more than her need of comfort and solace from him.

She simply needed _him. _And she _wanted _him.

"This was supposed to be our wedding night, Bash." Her words filled the empty room. He chuckled, squeezing her hand in response.

"Please do not remind me." His loneliness and sadness wounded her spirit.

"Can we pretend it is our wedding night?" There was a twinge of fear in Mary's voice, a fear that acknowledged this was far from the appropriate course action. She should leave, and seek out her husband's company. Truly, she should not even be here at all. "Cannot a wife lay with her husband?"

Sebastian's gaze held hers steadily, only his eyes widening in response to her words. "Yes, but I am not your husband."

"You should be." Her mother's words still echoed plainly in her mind. Mary scooted closer to Sebastian, her robe falling from her shoulders as she moved. She was still wearing her wedding nightdress, which in all accounts was quite ornate, and very sheer in the firelight. Mary watched the shudder ripple through Sebastian, as he sighed heavily, his eyes darkening.

"Oh Mary..." His voice had dipped lower, taken over by a husky quality.

"This should have been our wedding night, and I _want _it to be." Her voice had taken on a different timbre as well. She crawled across his bed, coming to rest by his side. She placed her hand on his knee, still covered in his formal trousers he wore to the wedding. Mary gave his knee a gentle squeeze, before she softly trailed her fingers upward, grazing his thigh, his hip, and found their way under his tunic. He closed his eyes as she traced her fingers over his stomach, up across chest, and stopped when his tunic halted her movements.

With a quick movement, he tossed the shirt over his head. Without the restriction of his shirt, Mary brought both hands to cup his face, stroking the stubbly cheeks affectionately. He gripped her elbows, pulling her closer to him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mary hushed him with a finger.

"Please, Sebastian, do not speak of the dangers. Let us exist in this moment, together, unbridled by our position." Mary watched his eyes, seeing his inner conflict. He finally nodded.

Mary laid herself gently back amongst the pillows, her hands stretched above her head. His arms enveloped her legs as he inched his way towards her. She quivered at the look in Sebastian's eyes as his body moved to cover hers, not touching, but hovering. She craved his touch, his warmth, and took the initiative to wrap her arms around his shoulders, hooking her legs around his hips. Though still partially clothed, he groaned as lowered his body to press against hers.

Raising herself slightly, Mary kissed his jaw, moving slowly down his neck to the hollow of his throat. One of his hands reached instinctively to curl in her hair, cradling the nape of her neck, while the other shook slightly, keeping both their weights slightly elevated from the bed. Making the most of her free hands, she traced the planes of his back, moving again to his stomach and up his chest, stopping periodically to press her fingers into his skin, massaging the muscles that lay beneath her fingers.

Gently, he let her body rest against the covers, his hands moving to the laces of her nightdress. One by one, he loosened them until the front of her gown barely covered her chest. Pushing him away slightly so she could sit up, Mary eased the gown up and over her head. Watching his eyes widen in admiration, she laid back down, stretching herself suggestively.

"Do you know how I wanted to be your husband?" He whispered, watching how the shadows of firelight danced across her bared chest, her breasts gently moving as she breathed. She smiled, rising up again to meet his gaze, and capture his lips sweetly.

"I wanted to be your wife." She spoke against his lips, a hand moving to tug on the closure of his trousers. "Believe when I say that tonight, I am."

"Will it ever be more than just tonight?" He asked, threading his fingers through her hair. "If tonight is all I have, then I will honor you, cherish you, and keep you with all that is in me."

"I do not know what the future holds, but let us have this moment, as long as you are mine." Sebastian stood briefly to remove his trousers, before covering her body again with his own. For a moment, neither moved nor spoke. Too engrossed with the other's presence, they simply enjoined the feel of their skin pressed together, chest to chest, hip to hip. In Mary's mind, this felt more intimate than even the act of love itself. Looking in to the other's eyes, opening their soul to be read as a book.

Breaking the silence, Sebastian buried his head in her neck, his lips moving against her skin. "I will be yours until the sun no longer shines."

Mary turned her head, forcing Sebastian to move his slightly to see her. Their noses touched, and Mary closed the remaining distance, her lips seeking his. As if she contained a tide within her, ready to break forth upon the rocks, she deepened the kiss, urging his lips apart, wanting to be ever closer to him.

"Oh my Mary, ever surprising me." He chuckled, Mary's hips rolling against his, urging him in another fashion. Her hand teasingly traveled down his back, over the warm flesh of his hip, before desperately gripping the rounded skin below. "Am I not taking your hint?" The breath from his husky laughter tickled her face, and she giggled in response.

"I love you, Sebastian, please know that. And I meant every word, I wanted...want...to be your wife, in every sense of the word."

"As I wish you could, my love." He kissed her chin, her neck, and down the valley between her breasts. She shivered as his breath ghosted over the moisture, and he smiled against as he rested his head against her chest. "It is an honor to make your heart race so."

Her patience wearing thin, though loving every teasing moment with him, Mary forcibly pulled him up towards her face, her lips urgently trying to convey her want. He shifted only slightly, never removing his lips from hers, and joined their bodies.

Mary sighed happily as they began their timeless dance. Between the warmth of the fire, and the friction of their bodies, Mary thought she might burst into flame. But she would not allow herself, for this might be her only chance to love her Sebastian, and needed to take the pleasure in every moment.

She wanted a night to remember with him. Between their bodies swaying harmoniously, the words of love whispered between panted breaths, Mary knew she would never forget.

Never.


End file.
